


To a very happy ending

by copycatgirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Crack, F/F, Fluff, Funny, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Reincarnation, therapeutic fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copycatgirl/pseuds/copycatgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where you headed then? All my mates are staying back to do extra training, even Wayne and Percy, the dickheads. Who stays behind to do training after breaking up for Christmas?"</p><p>I figured that we would all need some happy, cracky, Christmas-themed college-AU reincarnation fic right now. So here it is! When Merlin and Arthur are reincarnated in the modern day, Arthur remembers his past life, as does Morgana (now going by the name Morgan), but Merlin and Gwen do not. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To a very happy ending

Merlin rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet, his warm breath billowing around him in the sharp, cold air as he waited at the bus stop down the road from Camelot College. He fumbled with the mittens on his fingerless gloves, pulling them up over his frozen digits. His nose and ears were a fetching shade of bright pink and his skinny body was lost under layering of cardigans and jackets and his scarf. He looked down the road, convinced the stupid bus had stood him up. Every time there was any manner of extreme weather conditions, the bus failed to turn up- for Merlin, at least. He'd come to accept it as just his luck, but he was sure if he stayed here any longer he would get frostbite. And die, obviously.

"Fucking freezing!" said a voice. Merlin looked to his left to see Arthur Pendragon, his shoulders hunched, hopping from one foot to the other on the spot, looking a bit like a penguin. This amused Merlin greatly. Arthur Pendragon was one of the most popular boys in college, and therefore to see him adopting mannerisms of penguins or indeed any other antarctic creature was a rare occurence.

"Tis, somewhat," Merlin commented, wondering why the Hell he used either of those words. Arthur's expression seemed to suggest he was wondering the same thing. "Though, you're not really dressed for it," Merlin ploughed on, "As nice as the hoodie and fake leather jacket combination is, it won't keep you warm in this frozen wasteland." The disgruntled surprise on Arthur's face was just comical now.

"Merlin Emrys, right?" he asked.

"My reputation proceeds me!" Merlin said, deciding not to be normal and say "Yeah," but to instead continue to make himself look like a total twazzock. In front of Arthur Pendragon, King of college, no less. Arthur grinned.

"Ahh. I can't get over that thing with Gwen Thomas the other day." Merlin groaned.

"That was a nightmare!"

"I know, but it was pretty fucking funny."

The pretty fucking funny thing that had happened was that Gwen Thomas, beautiful but misunderstood art student and one of Merlin's few friends, had brought in mistletoe, and attempted to position herself and Merlin beneath said mistletoe. She'd got as far as their mouths touching before Merlin's hands had developed a mind of their own and- quite forcefully- removed her. And a voice that seemed far too high pitched to be his own squealed,

"What do you think you're doing?!" and the whole canteen had been witnesses, the majority of them laughed and Arthur Pendragon, evidently, filed it under "pretty fucking funny".

"She into you then?" Arthur asked shamelessly, grinning.

"As is apparent..." Merlin replied, pretending to look at the bus times on the stand, although the plastic screen was fogged over and filthy and melted in dirty welts from cigarette burns.

"And you don't like her?" Arthur pressed, leaning over Merlin's shoulder to see what he was reading and then, on realising it was boring, looking at Merlin for some source of entertainment.

"Well, what would my reaction suggest?" sighed Merlin, checking his phone and learning that no one had texted him as usual, pocketing it and watching Arthur bound around the bus shelter in some crazed attempt to keep warm.

"Where you headed then? All my mates are staying back to do extra training, even Wayne and Percy, the dickheads. Who stays behind to do training after breaking up for Christmas?"

"Not you?" Merlin tried.

"Most certainly not me!" Arthur agreed, "I plan to live a ridiculously unhealthy lifestyle this Christmas and I'm not about to start it off running around an icy football pitch with Lancelot Aldred simpering around me and that pervert Coach Monmouth staring at my legs!"

"Er. Yeah," Merlin faltered, "I was gonna head home- Ealdor. Small town, bit of a trek, but Mum really wanted me to come to this college. My uncle Gaius thought I'd do well here."

"I know Gaius!" announced Arthur happily, sounding quite pleased with himself, "He's our family doctor. Good friends with my Dad."

Merlin knew this. Gaius had convinced Arthur's dad- Uther Pendragon, head of Governors’ Board at Camelot College- to pull some strings and lower the entry points level slightly. It wasn't that Merlin wasn't bright- he was in fact remarkably clever- but he spent so much time with his head in the clouds that his GCSE results were less than remarkable.

"Yeah. So I'm meant to be going home but my bus was either early, is late, or is cancelled."

"Wanna come into Mercia with me?" Arthur asked casually. Merlin blinked. Had Arthur Pendragon, most loved boy in all of college just ask him, Merlin, art freak extraordinaire, to go into town with him?

"What?" Merlin said warily, thinking he may be part of an elaborate practical joke and the entire football team could ambush him any second.

"Mercia," Arthur repeated, "I have to get my loony stepsister some book about dreams or something for Christmas, don't fancy going in on my own. Come with?"  
Merlin hesitated. He could go home; clean his room, eat beans on toast, check Facebook. Or, he could go into Mercia with it's shiny, pretty lights, accompanied by Arthur Pendragon and his shiny, pretty features.

"Yeah, alright then." Merlin smiled.

"Excellent!" Arthur enthused, "When's the sodding bus coming, then?"

+

The sodding bus never came. This proved no object to Arthur: he simply raced down to the train station, Merlin on his heels, and devised a network of trains that would get them into Mercia Central within the hour. Merlin wondered why Arthur didn't buy a ticket, but didn't say anything about it, and saw how he dared attempt this when they arrived at the station. As they came to the ticket barriers, Arthur nudged Merlin, telling him to go first. Merlin passed through the gate and Arthur slipped in fast after him.

"Oi!" yelled the inspector on duty, seeing him, "Come back here!"

"Oh my God!" Arthur screamed, pointing in the air, "A dragon!"

Merlin found it hilarious the number of people who looked, but he didn't have long to appreciate it as he suddenly found himself running, Arthur dragging him by his sleeve, and they were both laughing. They didn't stop running until they were far from the station, leant up against a wall, panting with their hands on their knees as passers-by gave them strange looks.

"Do you often attempt that?" Merlin asked, still laughing.

"Normally, the people I'm with would bollock me if I tried to sneak in on their ticket, so it's not worth it," Arthur responded, his eyes shut as he breathed heavily, a smile on his face, "But you seemed like the kind of person who'd get as much enjoyment out of it as a me."

"Oh, thanks, I'm a pushover then?" Merlin scoffed. He let out another burst of laughter, "A dragon... a fucking dragon!"

"And they looked!" Arthur hooted. They both took a few moments to quash the giggles and get their breath back. "You know, I think I could quite like you, Merlin Emrys." Arthur said.

"Well, Arthur Pendragon, I'll see what I can do about trying to come to like you."  
Merlin got a smack on the side of the side and a feeling that maybe Arthur Pendragon wasn't the arrogant prat everyone thought him to be.

+

"You arrogant prat!" Merlin yelled, striding away from him across the snowy ground.

"I'm sorry, Merlin, look-!" Arthur called, stumbling behind him, still holding Merlin's scarf from the snowman they had spent the best part of the last four hours building.

"I can't believe you'd make such assumptions!" Merlin growled, "You don't know me, at all!"

"Merlin- you don't- I do know you."

Merlin spun around, his expression one of fury and disbelief.

"We spoke for the first time three days ago. We dicked around Mercia for a few hours with a litre bottle of knock-off Red Bull. You've text me twice since, and now you've managed to write off my sledge. You can't just assume that everyone under the sun finds you irresistibly attractive that you can go around kissing everyone. You do not know me, Arthur Pendragon. And now you’re not getting the chance.”

Arthur stopped , his shoulders dropping, as Merlin set off at a run.

"I was hoping you'd remember,” he said quietly to no one.

Arthur wandered home, one foot on the curb and one in the road, moodily kicking up the snow where it had become yellow sludge. He sat down heavily on a bench, pulling his rucksack onto his lap and shelling it open to pull out a red neckerchief and an old-fashioned seal ring, engraved with a dragon. He slid it onto his finger, but it was too large, so he took it off again, stuffing both items back into the bag.

“Did I go through puberty twice, the first time not even knowing the term “puberty”, for that clotpole?” he demanded loudly of the air. A woman on the opposite side of the road walking a terrier looked rather alarmed and hurried on. Arthur sighed.

“They don’t mention this, you know,” he continued, knowing he appeared somewhat insane and not really caring, “There’s no guidebook to reincarnation where it tells you what to do if most of your second-coming mates don’t even remember their past lives.” 

“Talking to yourself again, dear brother?” asked a voice, with a lick of an Irish accent.

“Morgan,” Arthur scowled, as the girl sat down next to him, “Don’t sneak up on me.”

“I didn’t! I was just walking. It’s a free country, isn’t it?”

Arthur looked at his stepsister witheringly, unable to resist poking out his tongue childishly at her. She returned the favour, but then assumed a serious expression, cocking her head slightly. She was younger than him by two years, just passing the awkward beginning of her own repeated teenage years, her dark hair waving prettily around her pale face, cheeks flushed pink in the winter air.

“Did you speak to him?”

“I… sort of?” Arthur said sheepishly, unable to stop a slight blush rising on his cheeks. Morgan’s eyes flashed mischievously.

“You jumped him, didn’t you!” she demanded, grinning with her beautiful straight white teeth, “You little pervert!”

“I did not jump him,” Arthur protested, “I just… misread the signals and may have tried to… kiss him.”

“I used to tell you!” she continued gleefully, “Did I not? I used to say, back in the castle, back then—“ Arthur indicated that she might want to keep her voice down, so she lowered it just a fraction, “I told you that you had a crush on him! And then you ended up marrying Guinevere, for some unfathomable reason.”

“And you ended up killing most of my friends,” Arthur replied bitingly, in a moment of spite and anger, feelings from his best life touching the surface. Morgan coloured at once, bowing her head in shame.

“I’m sorry for what I did then,” she murmured, “But that’s not who I am now. You know that, Arthur.”

Arthur gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, embarrassed at himself.

“I’m sorry. I know, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it, Morgan.”

She nodded, and raised her head, and at once seemed quite happy again.

“Have you seen Gwen in life this? She’s beautiful, Arthur, even more beautiful than I remembered. Oh, I wish I was at Camelot College with all of you!”

“Now who’s the little pervert?” Arthur teased, but continued, “Don’t worry, Morgan. When it all comes back together- when Merlin remembers, which he will eventually, I’m sure, Gwen’s memories should return soon after. I don’t think others will- Gaius maybe, but my father is better off living the life he lives now. He’s much happier than I remember him.”

“Definitely,” Morgan agreed, with a nod of her little head.

“I just can’t work out why Merlin can’t remember,” Arthur continued in a frustrated sigh.

“By rights, you shouldn’t remember, and he should,” mused Morgan, “No offence, big brother, but Merlin and I should remember, because we both had magic. You didn’t. I can’t think why he wouldn’t remember, unless there’s somehow something blocking it.”

“Something he’s repressing, maybe?” Arthur asked slowly, speculating.

“Perhaps,” Morgan said, and then shivered violently. She was wearing only a thin jacket over her t-shirt and jeans, and the snow was beginning to fall again.

“C’mon, let’s get home,” Arthur said, putting one arm around her to share his body heat. She smiled her vampiric little smile and leant lightly against him, and they walked in time back to their house a few streets away.

“HOME!” Arthur called as he tossed his keys into the wooden bowl on the side. There was no reply. Arthur shrugged, “Dad must still be out. Popcorn and the widescreen?”

“Yeah!” Morgan enthused. Arthur loved moments like these, when she was excitable about such ordinary things. Sometimes something of the old Morgana Pendragon came through, not the cruelty, but the fear and the feelings of not fitting in, especially when she had nightmares about their old lives, so to see Morgan being a normal teenage girl, being able to watch a funny film with her brother two days before Christmas, was always a heart-warming sight.

When they were settled watching The Holiday and stuffing their faces with Butterkist, the subject of Merlin arose again.

“So,” Morgan began, dragging her eyes away from Jude Law, her cheeks pouched with popcorn, “You thing Merlin’s repressing something? And that’s why the past is being blocked out for him?”

“Well, yeah,” Arthur replied, chewing thoughtfully, also somewhat enraptured by Jude Law, “I was thinking that could interfere? If he’s not reconciled with himself in this life, he can’t deal with who he was in the past one.”

“Any theories about what he’s denying?”

“Well. I think he’s gay.”

“Says you!” Morgan laughed kindly.

“Oi,” Arthur replied, pointing a finger in her face, “I didn’t read all those Internet articles on pansexuality just to have baby bisexual girls call me gay.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Morgan smirked, holding up her hands in mock-surrender, “So, he needs to come out as a gay man before he can come out as a sorcerer?”  
“Something like that,” Arthur sighed, “Just no idea how either of those things could come about when he never wants to see me again.”

“He’ll come around,” Morgan soothed, “It’s destiny.”

“Yeah. Destiny,” Arthur echoed.

“Do you ever think we’re just crazy?” Morgan asked, leaning her head against her elder brother’s shoulder.

“Possibly,” Arthur replied, “But if Merlin ends up being crazy with us, I don’t really mind.”

+

Merlin was just polishing off his sixth mince pie when there was a knock at the door. His mum told him not to eat so many, but he’d decided long ago to abuse his fast metabolism before it thought to slow down, and eating mince pies on Christmas Eve Eve was as obligatory as eating them on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Merlin’s books.

“Could you get that, Merlin?” his mum called over the sound of the old Christmas records playing downstairs, “I’m being held hostage by wrapping paper at the mo’!”

It was times like this, with an occupied mother and lazy mince pie-eating to be done, that Merlin wished his father was home; but he was very proud of the work his dad did, looking after Komodo Dragons at a Conservation park in Indonesia. Something about it always nagged at the back of Merlin’s mind, but he supposed it was just the strangeness of the job. His dad was flying home tomorrow, in time for Christmas, and Merlin was thoroughly looking forward to it.

Bringing himself back to the present, Merlin called out a quick affirmative to his mum, and hopped down the stairs two at a time. He opened the door, expecting carol singers or a Jehovah’s Witness, but was instead greeted by a pretty teenage girl in a furry coat.

“Hi!” she said brightly, “I’m Morgan, sorry to intrude on you like this but I needed to talk to you—about a mutual friend, Gwen Thomas. May I come in?”

Merlin was so taken aback by her attitude and her bouncy voice that he nodded at once, beckoning her to come in.

“Who is it?” his mum called.

“A girl from college, Morgan,” Merlin replied, the lie coming very easily, “She needed some help starting off a project, just so she’s not swamped in the middle of the Christmas holidays.”

“That’s very kind of you, Merlin. Hi Morgan!” she called.

“Hi Mrs Emrys!” Morgan replied merrily. Merlin was thoroughly confused, and thinking that things couldn’t possibly get any weirder, invited Morgan up to his bedroom.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, gesturing at the few scattered items that barely constituted a “mess”. She seated herself on Merlin’s bed, bouncing gently once or twice before fixing him with a reassuring, pretty smile.

“Okay, cards on the table, I lied. I’ve nothing to say about Gwen Thomas. Apart from the fact that she’s absolutely gorgeous and if she’s into younger women feel free to throw her number my way.”

Merlin blinked at her and said nothing, so she continued,

“I’m actually a Pendragon—I’m Arthur’s little stepsister. Yeah, sorry about that!” she said quickly, as she watched Merlin’s body language recoil, “But we really need to talk about him. It’s really important.”

“Look, I don’t care,” Merlin said crossly, “He’s a dick. He thinks that everyone loves him but I’m not interested in being his little experiment, okay?”

“Oh Emrys, you’re not that!” Morgan exclaimed effusively. He stared at her.

“Why did you just call me by my surname?” he asked, getting more and more weirded out by this girl with every passing second.

“Ah, damn, did I? Sorry. Old habits.”

“You’re not making sense. I’d like you to go, please.”

She leaned forward, her hands on her knees, to look right into his eyes.

“It will make sense soon. It has to. It’s destiny.”

Merlin was about to demand with more force that she leave, when all of a sudden she reached out and touched his face. In a split second, a enormous shudder passed down his spine, and he could have sworn that her eyes flashed orange in a blink. He leapt away from her, palening. His mind was reeling with something that felt like deja-vu, but he couldn’t place what he thought he was remembering.

“Go away!” he cried, “I don’t want you here, Morgana!”

“I’m not Morgana,” she said softly, getting to her feet, “But I’m glad you called me  
that. I’ll let myself out.”  
She left without another word. Merlin felt very strange and shaken. So he put another mince pie in his mouth and opened up a YouTube tab to search for some cats.

+

“This is stalking,” Arthur hissed to Morgan in the Starbucks queue.

“Hmm,” said Morgan, hugging a sketchbook to her chest, “Caramel macchiato or a chai tea latte? And are the festive drinks actually any good? I’ve never had one before.”

“Morgan!”

“It’s not stalking. It’s necessary. It’s destiny.”

“You can’t just say “it’s destiny” to excuse everything you have me do.”

“It’s true! In your case, at least. What I’m here for, that’s most definitely stalking, I won’t deny that one.”

“He’s going to kill me…”

“Hi! Which of your festive drinks would you recommend personally?”

Arthur groaned and folded his arms. Trust Morgan to ask the baristas what their personal opinions on the drinks were. He glanced outside onto the snowy street, and suddenly felt his heart lurch and his stomach squeeze unpleasantly as he saw Merin approaching, wearing a dark hoodie beneath a worn red jacket. He turned back to Morgan, panicking, but being unable to talk to her as she was deep in conversation with the barista, stared intently at the counter. He heard Merlin come in, and did his best to remain inconspicuous, following Morgan like a puppy over to a table in the corner, where she sat sipping her gingerbread latte merrily. He didn’t understand how she could be so calm. Then again, she wasn’t madly in love with the boy currently ordering a venti hazelnut latte just across the room.

Arthur watched Merlin for a little too long, and the other boy must have felt his gaze upon him, because his head snapped up and he caught Arthur looking in his direction. A look of mingled shock and disgust spread across his face and he turned back to the member of staff to say,

“Yeah, sorry, actually, could I have that to go?”

“Shit,” Arthur murmured. Merlin snatched his cup up off the counter and turned to leave quickly.

“What are you waiting for?” Morgan said, “Go after him!”

Arthur wasn’t sure what else he could do. He got to his feet and began to run. Merlin was already a way down the high street when Arthur came out of the coffee shop, so Arthur darted after him.

“Merlin!” he called, “Merlin, please! Wait! Let me explain!”

“There’s nothing to explain!” Merlin yelled back, not slowing down or turning around, “Fuck off!”

“Merlin! I’m begging you!”

Merlin whirled around at that, just as they came under a bridge.

“Begging me!” he scoffed, an incredulous laugh in his voice, “What is this?! It’s not funny, Pendragon! Leave me alone!”

“You need to stop lying to yourself,” Arthur begged, “You need to know who you are!”

“What is it to you?” Merlin demanded, shaking his head, his eyes wide, “Yes! I’m gay! So fucking what? Doesn’t mean I automatically wanna be your bit on the side before some pretty princess comes along, alright?!”

Arthur paused, looking intently at the other boy. Suddenly the snow outside of the tunnel seemed to be swirling thicker and faster, and there seemed to be a golden-orange glint in Merlin’s eyes.

“Please,” Arthur murmured, “I love you.”

Before Merlin could say a word, Arthur lunged forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Merlin’s lips. The coffee cup dropped to the floor, the lid coming away, coffee splashing over their shoes. At first Merlin kept his mouth hard and resolute, but after a moment a change overcame him. He seemed to soften before him, his mouth opening ever so slightly, his whole body breathing a sigh of relief, a sudden warmth and ease radiating from him, replacing the awkward shyness and anger of before. At once he threw him arms around Arthur’s neck, kissing him on his mouth, on his cheeks, on his forehead. He began to cry, and soon Arthur was crying too, happy tears they shared.

“Oh Arthur,” Merlin breathed, “My Arthur, my once and future king—I remember. I remember everything.”

“I never said it,” Arthur replied, choking on the words, “But I love you.”

“I know,” Merlin smiled through his tears, “I always knew.”

+

Arthur and Merlin returned to the coffee shop, holding hands, just in time to witness Morgana accidentally-on-purpose dropping her sketchbook onto Gwen Thomas’s table as she passed.

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry!” she said, putting a hand on the slightly-startled Gwen’s shoulder, “I’m so clumsy! I hope I didn’t spill your coffee on you? You’re not burnt?”

“No no, I’m fine!” Gwen assured her, “You missed my coffee, and there wasn’t much of it left anyway. Here, your…” she trailed off at she looked down at the sketchbook, taking in the doodles of crests and dragons and regal hairstyles, “Oh, wow. These are absolutely amazing!”

“You think you?” Morgan said, a beam breaking out across her face.

“Absolutely! Do you study art?”

“I do the compulsory stuff—but I’m only just fifteen, I’m still at the local high school.”

“Oh! Well you look very mature for your age!” Gwen exclaimed, before looking very embarrassed, “Oh, God—sorry, that sounded weird, I didn’t mean—“

“Not at all, it’s fine,” Morgan smiled, “Do you mind if I..?” She gestured to the spare chair opposite Gwen.

“Be my guest! I’m Gwen, by the way.”

“I’m Morgan.”

“I have to say, your art is so much better than many of my classmates’… I study art at Camelot College…”

Arthur and Merlin simply looked at one another, sharing a smile. Everything was turning out as it should. As far as second chances go, this one was pretty much perfect.

-End.


End file.
